the tan's of lisa

Lament in the key of D

The dreaded Piano Exam is barely a month away
Woe to me...
Woe to me...
I can see myself now, running out of the exam room- a hopelessly teary mess. Suicidal thoughts and all. Banging my chest, crying out "WHY WHY WHY?WHY ME?"...It happens every time. Every single piano exam. I'm such a wuss. But really, the examiners are very very intimidating. Can make children cry wan. Just like Santa Claus. You know when I was young-I was terrified of Santa Claus, especially the ones that wanna shake your hand in malls. What's their problem man?? I will run helter skelter away from The Big Fat White & Red Thing and hide behind my dads ass...When I own a mall, I will never hire a stupid Santa Claus to terrify young children.

Sigh. I really hope I won't burst into a fountain of grief & sorrow this piano exam. I am twenty. Cannot cry laa. Cannot. People will stare and whisper wan. So maluuu. must. be. strong. smile. always.

But being the realist that I am, I know I will-and I probably should start crying now. Whoever thought it would be this hard? I am under immense stress, my mind is plagued incessantly by thoughts of the worst scenarios. What if the examiner is having a bad day? What if I was sleepy? What if I panic? What if I'm not good enough?
Woe to me...
Woe to me...
Such pain, such agony. Why did I subject myself to this?

After 11years of piano classes.
Is this what I have come to?
Is this is it?
Where is that promised pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?

Practice. Eight hours. Practice. Eight hours. Practice. Eight hours.
Guilt eats me.
Because I cannot do it.
I don't have that kind of stamina.

Please let this end.

I'm in a tunnel, all I want to see is that sliver of light.
I am drowning in Pulau Redang, all I want to see is a hot surfer dude come rescue me.
A pass is all I need. All I want. All I've worked for. Seventy-Five on the dot.
And I will buy all of you teh-o-ais-limau. I promise.

After 11 years of piano classes.
I also realize
I wouldn't have chosen a different path
As cliche as it sounds. Music made me.
When words fail to express the way I feel. Music can.
Music and I.
It's a love hate relationship.

posted by lisathetan @ 10:33 AM